


A Pastel Cliche

by SentientSucculents



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal, Cute, Eren totally bottoms to Levi, Fluff, High-school au, Jean is an idiot, Jean/Eren Friendly Rivalry, LGBT+, M/M, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, Marco is an angel, Pastel Marco, Plot What Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Slow Updates, Smut, freckled jesus, jeanmarco, more tags will be added, pastel!marco, photographer!Jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SentientSucculents/pseuds/SentientSucculents
Summary: Jean isn't quite at peace with the world. He just... exists. So when he's sitting on almost the edge of a cliff, with not a thought in his mind and a camera in one hand, his automatic reaction when freckled face popped into view was to scowl. Really, really hard.Marco is, well, Marco. Freckles, glasses, pastel sweaters and all, he's a walking Tumblr all over. And that's... Pretty much it. He's bubbly, air-headed, too-cute-for-words and far wiser than any seventeen year old really should be.And somehow, he manages to make Jean live again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I know it seems unnecessary, but here are the warnings and disclaimers.  
> This is a fanfiction and is in no way intended to harm anyone or represent an event; any similarities to reality, whether it be characters, scenarios or spoken dialogue, is entirely coincidental. This is my own work of fiction and is not intended to be of similar nature to another work in any way, shape or form apart from Jean x Marco. Disclaimer- I do not own anything from Attack On Titan, all characters belong to Hajime Isayama and the creators & editors of Shingeki No Kyojin. Great! Now that that is done and dusted, onwards, with a cookie in one hand and a box of tissues in the other.  
> EDIT-- I am sorry to all and any Ereri/Riren shippers that were reading this as it was originally planned out to Levi x Eren, however, I realized I should probably broaden my writing a little and try something new. Forgive me <3

Jean slumped to the ground, a soft, salt-tainted wind blowing blond strands of hair away from his face as he stared off the cliff and across the vast expanse of water. Undulating blue flashed in front of him, the evening sun glinting off the ocean and clashing with the orange-tinted horizon line.

He liked coming here, to the edge of his little world. Nobody disturbed the man as he sat, a dark blob of grey against the ever-changing skylight.  
Until, that is, today.

He had to admit, the kid was cute. With his pastel purple, three-sizes too-big sweater drowning his figure and the mint-tinted skinny jeans, he seemed to be incredibly thin. Jean unconsciously drank in the sight of him, noticing the array of freckles across his cheeks and nose, the messy dark hair falling over his eyes. Oh, his eyes! A marvelous colour that could be searched far and wide; you could scour the deepest of oceans and the highest of summits, yet never come close to brilliance  that shone in his pretty irises. His skin wasn't as pale as Jean's own, yet he didn't have the slightest tan- his tone seemed to meld perfectly somewhere between the two. The petal-pink lips, chapped ever so slightly, that grinned at him from above and the thick, almost girlish eyelashes- if Jean didn't know better, he'd have pinned the boy as wearing mascara.

And who could miss the flower crown perched on his head? The dark green leaves, the bright reds, pale pinks and stark whites of the fake - yet almost real- roses that stood out against his mussed black hair.

"Hello!"

Jean had to swallow thickly before he could manage a reply. The stranger's voice was smoother than Lindt chocolate, sweeter than honey and as vibrant as a clear sunset-

"Hi."

Jean cursed mentally. That was so lame. Why is he talking to this pile of pastel cuteness that had just plopped to the ground beside him, unaware of the toil inside his mind? Oh, dear.

"I'm Marco."

Silence. Jean was too engrossed in the sound of the other's voice to process the words properly, before feeling his expecting gaze. Heat crept up his neck and he swallowed again.

"Jean."

Ahh, crap. He was done for. The Marco kid splayed beside him was too busy grinning about nothing to notice the waves of anxious discomfort rolling out of Jean's wind-bitten skin.

"Nice to meet you, Jean! I was sure surprised to see someone else in this little hideaway."

Jean merely managed a strangled grunt of reply, acknowledging the words but struggling to straighten out his own mind, keeping his eyes on the fading blue sky above him.

"Not very talkative, are you? Oh well, I'll probably  do enough jabbering for the both of us, haha!"

He hoped he wasn't discouraging the boy by his silence, yet wished for solitariness.

"So, whatcha doin' here?"

Jean huffed and sat up, glaring at Marco, who bit his lip- shit- and flushed abashedly.

"M'sorry." He mumbled." I was just.... Y'know. Sorry."

Jean's conscience begged him to reassure the boy that it was not his fault, and that the grumpy male was just a rude, smart-mouthed, introverted douche-bag, but all he said was, "Spare me."

He hugged one knee, staring across the ocean again, determined not to look the obviously guilt-ridden boy. Of course, Marco blamed it on himself-- just Jean's luck.

"Are you from around here?" Shit. He need to redevelop that filter he once had between his brain and his mouth. "I haven't seen you around, and it wouldn't be easy to forget a face like that."

Marco flushed lightly, but smiled nonetheless. "Ah, no, I moved here a few weeks back! I don't really know many people and I haven't been out much yet, what with getting settled in. "He explained, losing his hesitance at Jean's earlier standoffish-ness. Jean nodded wordlessly, pressing his lips together to keep from spouting more crap.

After a while, the sun was beginning to set and he stood up, brushing off his jeans and grimacing at the dirt it  
the action left on his hands. Marco scrambled to follow suit, chewing his lip.

"I, ah, should be heading off. I'll see you around?" Marco's face looked ridiculously hopeful, Jean thought, and he found himself agreeing.

"Maybe." He corrected. Marco gave him a cheery little wave before turning.

"Uh, hey. Wait just a sec." Jean called uneasily, before Marco could leave. The pastel boy turned, his smile as bright as the sun itself.

"Yes'm?"

"Give me your arm." Jean's voice was uncomfortable, monotonous even. Marco held out his arm nonetheless and Jean pulled the sleeve up, scribbling his phone number down with the inking pen that always sat in his back pocket and looking away.

"Message me, later. I'm... Generally more talkative when I'm not face to face." He muttered and scuffed his shoe into the grass awkwardly, a grimace settling on his features. He glanced upwards to see Marco's grin fall, then a smaller, flattered smile graced his lips as if he knew the inside of Jean's mind.

"Will do, Jean." He answered softly, then grasped the hems of his sleeves into his palms and left. Jean did not move his feet until the pastel-coloured smudge was out of sight.

Oh, dysfunctional child of Satan. What in hell was he doing?


	2. Pastel 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Jean's mama, but it's not a happy greeting.

A muffled sigh of relief bubbled past his lips. "I'm home, ma." He called, voice echoing softly off the walls. A gentle groan from the living room told Jean of her reply, and he slipped his bag off his shoulder and carefully onto the floor.

"Hey, ma." He greeted the sleepy figure sprawled across the couch gently. He didn't understand why his mother worked herself so hard. Since the Kirstein father figure left, she'd been working herself on two jobs to keep herself busy and Jean could see her deteriorating. He knelt beside the couch. "What time did you get home?"

"Hello, Little Jeanie. Around four, maybe?" She replied blearily, unfurling herself from around a pillow and sitting up on her elbows to smile at him with wide, dull eyes. They'd long since lost their bright spark of life, Jean decided.

"Two hours ago." He muttered. "You go back to sleep then. I'll make dinner tonight." He smiled weakly and kissed her forehead, rocking on his heels to stand up and then he paused, looking down at her blank, tired face. He suppressed another sigh and sat next to her, letting her lay her head in his lap. Instantly his hand was in her hair, running the caramel blonde strands between his fingers gently.

"Thanks, Jay. I'm sorry." She murmured, eyes already sliding shut again. He shook his head and didn't answer, running his hand over her scalp over and over again until she was fast asleep and snoring gently. He shifted slowly so he did not wake her and scooped her into his arms, face falling as he realized how little she was now. His expression was crestfallen as he carried her to bed and covered her over.

Jean blinked a few times and retreated, turning off the light and closing the door quietly, but the moment she was out of sight he turned and slid down the wall with his head in his hands. his breath shuddered and he swallowed thickly, painfully, a lump of tears stuck in his dry throat. He wasn't sure how long he was sat there, struggling with himself outside of his sleeping mother's bedroom, but he startled fiercely when his phone buzzed from his back pocket.

_New Chat with Freckles {Marco~}!_

**I'm hoping I got the right number, is this Jean? Camera Jean? If not, I was never here~**

Jean stared at the new conversation message with surprised eyes. He hadn't really expected the pastel boy to message him, if he was honest with himself, but it was certainly a welcome distraction.

_6:09 PM_

Jean : _No, don't worry, this is Jean. Sorry about my being so rude earlier._

_6:10 PM_

Freckles: **No worries! Just glad I got your number hehe I don't really have anyone else to talk to, being new and all.**

_6:11 PM_

Jean : _You're a dork. What school are you going to attend here, anyways?_

Freckles : **Why, planning on seeing more often?**

Jean : _More hoping, really._

_6: 16 PM_

Freckles : **so honest. Maria High, but the Rose department for music.**

Jean: _That's where I go, but I'm in art and photography in Rose. If you want, I'll show you around on Monday. It's easy to get lost in the frikkin massive school, I used to so often._

Freckles : **That'd be amaaaazing! Thanks, Jeanie-Boy! I've got to go, dinner's a-calling :3**

Jean. _Bye, Marco._

_Sent, 6:20 PM_

Jean grasped at the doorway frame and pulled himself to his feet, making his way to the kitchen to find whatever he could scrap up into a reasonable dinner; he really need to go shopping again. He stared at the kitchen counter with his hands on his hips, a small range of simple spices, pasta, bacon strips, block cheese and mint in front of him. A small smile quirked at one side of his mouth as he mentally added them together and he set to work, as quietly as he could be.   
  
  
  


"Ma, are you awake yet?" Jean called as he pushed open the door, the clock having just hit seven o'clock. His breath caught in his throat and he strode forwards, wrapping his arms around his crying mother without comment.

"I-I'm sorry, Little Jeanie." She managed, throat thick with tears. He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "I'm a terrible mother."

"Don't say that, ma." Jean protested quietly, voice pained and brow furrowed she sniffled and wiped desperately at her face.

"I didn't mean to put so much on you, sweetheart. You're all grown up now and I've been too busy d-drowning myself in work to notice." She choked out and a fresh wave of tears hit her." I-I-I'm so sorry, baby boy." Jean hushed her and she slumped against him, face buried in his shoulder. "I'll try and be better. I'll quit one of the jobs tomorrow. I can hold off from one, right?" Jean didn't answer, unsure of who she was talking to -- her son or herself.

After a bit, Jean eased her upright. "Dinner's ready and waiting, ma. Let's go before it goes cold. It's your favourite." A small, crooked smile made its way onto his face as her eyes brightened considerably. He helped her off the bed and didn't let go of her hand until she was seated.

"D'you want anything to drink?" He poured himself a glass of water as he turned to her. She shook her head.

"No thank you, Jay." Jean's brow furrowed at the name and she flushed, looking down at the table. "Well I can't call you Little Jeanie anymore, can I? You're hardly little.. You're taller than I am." She smiled feebly.

"I'd prefer it if you stuck to Little Jeanie, ma. He used to call me Jay." Jean's face crumbled and she reached for his hand.

  
"I miss him too, Jeanie. Even if we shouldn't. Go on, eat your dinner before I force it down your neck." She giggled lightly and Jean found himself smiling genuinely in -- well, a very long while.


	3. Pastel 3.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the way that Trost High works is based off the Australian curriculum, so if anything is confusing or different from your country's school curriculum at any point during this story just message me and I'll explain for you :)

It was hard to miss 'the new kid' when Jean arrived at school the next day. The dark-haired boy had obviously tuned down on the pastels; only black jeans and a simple lilac sweater covered his skin that day -- though the flower crown was still nestled in his hair. Jean put his hand in the air and waved to catch Marco's attention.

"Jean!" Marco's face lit up wide, relieved smile the moment he spotted the blond and stepped away from the gate, hurrying towards him. "I'm so glad you're here, oh gosh, I was freaking out, school's about to start and you weren't here-"

Jean chuckled as he cupped a hand over Marco's mouth, effectively shutting him up and watching a small blush cover his freckles lightly.

"Cool it, Marc." He smiled and pulled his hand away, revealing an  attractive lip bite. "I'm here now, aren't I?" 

Marco released his lip and smiled from ear to ear, tilting his head slightly. Jean didn't speak for a few brief moments, taking advantage of the other's closed eyes to admire him; the array of freckles splashed haphazardly against his peaches-and-cream skin, the dark hair almost falling over his eyes in a way that seemed like an effortlessly messy way that so many people styled for an hour to achieve, the thick eyelashes that threw shadows on his cheeks and the lush, full lips that girls would die for.

"Come on, then. Admin office first, we'll snag your class table." He spoke suddenly as he pulled himself out of his reverie. Nonetheless, his voice was smaller than he had intended. He could only hope that Marco hadn't noticed, and if he had, wouldn't be curious enough to ask.

Marco slid his hands deeper into his back pockets, the denim, Jean noticed, hugging him in all the right (and for Jean, so incredibly _wrong_ and _unhelpful_ ) places. Jean quickly drew his eyes towards the school and nodded his head, gesturing for Marco to follow and smiling to himself at the pleased expression that had settled on the other boy's face.

"Thank you, Jean, for doing this. I'd be so lost if you weren't here." Marco sighed dramatically, taking a few small running strides to catch up to the two-tone blonde. Jean chuckled softly.

"I'm sure you'd be fine. Just -- you seem sociable, so make friends, okay? You won't be liked much if you hang around me." Jean said, his expression uncomfortable and stony. He didn't elaborate - _wouldn't_ elaborate - and Marco pressed his lips together, looking a little hurt.

"I - I don't know what you mean, but... I'll agree to keep you happy." He shrugged one shoulder and Jean blinked, lips pushing into a shape dangerously close to a pout.

Neither of them spoke after that until they reached the administration office, with only two minutes left to the bell. Jean opened the door and let Marco through before he followed suit, but stayed hanging around the door frame while Marco introduced himself to the grumpy-looking office lady with his ever-sweetening smile.

"H-hi! I'm, uh, Marco Bodt. Today's my first day here? I was wondering if I could get my class time table." Jean listened half-heartedly, eyes on the floor. _Marco Bodt._ The name rang with the same sweet tones as namesake's voice did, and Jean loved it.

The lady heaved a melodramatic sigh and Jean rolled his eyes. _Come on lady, it's not even nine o'clock yet and you do jack shit._ He'd made himself chuckle and quickly avoided the glare she sent his way.

Marco glanced over his shoulder and pressed his lips together, failing to hide a smile of amusement at the silent banter before turning his attention back to her and taking the sheet of paper with a nervous, grateful smile.

Never in his life at Trost High had Jean seen her show emotion, so he didn't miss the flash of a tight smile and the way her eyes softened. So Jean wasn't the only person Marco's infectiously sweet personality was affecting; the thought made the butterflies in his stomach still a little.

"Here -- do I have any classes with you?" Marco asked, holding the paper out to show Jean, who grasped the end of it and quickly scanned the small writing.

"Well, first up you have Chem with Ms. Zöe - that's with me. We're both in PE, Chem, Trig, Art and History together, but you're in Music and Bio on your own. I'm in *PAS and Photography while you're there. I'll show you where they are anyway." He explained, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he spoke. Marco nodded along to his words, seeming relieved that Jean was in most of his classes.

"I wouldn't be too pleased if I were you -- Hanji Zoe is seriously insane." Jean half-joked, a crooked smile on his face that matched the one on Marco's.

"Kirstein, don't corrupt him. I'm trusting you to show him around." The woman said, putting a hall pass on the counter and scowling at him with no real malice as he reached for it with a nod.

Marco gave him a strange look, obviously confused, and Jean didn't quite meet his eyes as he opened the door for him. Marco hummed a ' thank you' and waited outside for Jean to lead the way.

The bell rang shrilly and both of them startled, leaving Jean to smile sheepishly and Marco to giggle out of embarrassment, one hand tugging on the hem of his sweater. Jean glanced at the grey sky and tugged the collar of his jacket up, trying to block out the cool autumn air.

By the time they'd reached the chemistry classroom they were already fifteen minutes late, with Jean clamping his lips together as he tried not to laugh at Marco's antics, who was giggling relentlessly into the sleeve of his jumper. Trying to gather his wits about him again, he glanced at Marco before rapping his knuckles against the door a few times.

Jean let one side of his mouth quirk upwards into a smile directed at Marco, who was rocking nervously on the balls of his feet.

The door handle turned and Jean pushed Marco forward a little. "Ahh, let the fun begin!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PAS  
> Physical something something. Basically an extra PE lesson, but an elective :)

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not very long, and most chapters will be around to 900 - 1500 range. This is one of my shorter chapter fics :)


End file.
